


Got No Focus

by theprincessed



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Roughhousing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry's flirting turns into something more. (Set just before X Factor 2010 Live Show Week 4 - Hallowe'en Week)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got No Focus

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first fic for this pairing back in the wild old days of 2010 and will be the tamest thing you will ever see from me!
> 
> Originally written and posted 5 November 2010.

Louis hates when he loses track of Harry. Of course the five of them are all pretty much joined at the hip these days, living and working together, but Harry seems to draw him closer like a magnet and completely without realising it. At first, Louis thought it might be that Harry had become his very best mate in the band - Harry in one of the top bunks in their bedroom and Louis directly below - but the idea that there's something more to it tickles the edges of his mind, even if it's still indefinable and just out of conscious reach.

He pushes open the living room door and pops his head round. Aiden and Matt are taking up one sofa, whilst a gaggle of girls congregate over the rest of the furniture, watching the television and giggling to themselves like only girls know how to do without giving anything away of their conversations. Plenty of people to ask.

"Hey guys, have you seen Harry?" Louis asks, putting on his best innocent _help me_ expression.

A few of them simply shake their heads. Aiden tries to beckon him over with a grin and, under any other circumstances, Louis would launch himself at his older confidante, but Harry comes before him. Louis would never tell him or any of the other boys, but if he gets nervous on the Friday evening or during the weekend, he starts to get nervous _for_ the rest of them too. It's distracting, so he'd rather find Harry and make sure everything's cool. In the evenings, he begins to wind down from being the manic whirlwind he usually is and that's when thoughts surface. If he's not careful, all this caring lark and making sure Harry ( _everyone_ ) is alright will drive him mad.

Louis checks the garden, the kitchen and even the bathroom with no luck until he happens to bump into Liam coming out of their shared bedroom.

"Liam!" Louis exclaims, bounding up to him and grabbing him by his biceps, "You seen Hazza anywhere?"

Liam blinks at him once, bites his lip. "Nah. I haven't, mate. Have you tried the rehearsal room?"

Louis throws his arms in the air. "Genius!"

He goes to leave then looks back over his shoulder to see Liam close their bedroom door behind him and smooth his hair down. Come to think of it, he does seem a little more ruffled than usual. Normally he's all smiles and wise beyond his years.

"Hey, you okay?" Louis asks, warily watching him because damn it, now he's intrigued and he can never leave something like that alone.

Liam appears startled that Louis is still standing at the top of the stairs, "Who, me? M'fine. Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Louis raises an eyebrow slowly, "No reason, I guess."

"Okay then..." suddenly, in the strange pause, Liam smirks, "I thought you were looking for Harry?"

"Oh! Yeah. Thanks."

Louis takes the stairs without his often dangerous vigour, uselessly straining his neck to try and hear if Liam does anything now he's apparently out of sight. He's about to give up when he hears the snick of (maybe the same) door closing and clumsy footsteps above him, just like someone is falling all over themselves or something to get somewhere. What the hell is he up to? Maybe he hasn't given Liam enough weird credit yet.

Pulling open the door to the small rehearsal studio downstairs and towards the back of the house, it's not difficult to spot Harry. He's standing close to the wall length mirror and Louis can see the wire of his earphones hanging over the pocket of his jeans so he's obviously listening to music, practicing this week’s song. Louis has to cover his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter as he gets nearer and hears the cheesily epic sound of Bonnie Tyler. The things they do for this show!

As the volume is so loud, Harry doesn't hear Louis enter or slowly tiptoe up to him and this is all the better. When he's within touching distance, Louis quickly grabs Harry's jeans and tugs them down to reveal peculiar underwear adorned with cartoon green aliens. Harry whirls around and stumbles, matching green eyes wide in surprise. Louis goes pink in the face with laughter as Harry half scowls and rolls his eyes. He's pulling his jeans back up - artfully low anyway, of course - when Louis rushes forward and removes the earphones.

"I thought I'd find you here!" he says brightly, clapping him forcefully on the back.

"Yeah, whatever," Harry laughs, "Aiden just came in and said you rejected him and looked worryingly serious. What's up, Lou-Lou? Were you missing me?"

Louis unsuccessfully tries to duck out of Harry trapping him in a headlock and messing up his hair, so he shouts to see if that will make his bandmate let him go, "Don't call me that!"

"Why not? The judges call Louis that sometimes y'know"

Louis has a go at prising Harry's arm from around his neck. He's not above biting him. "Exactly! I'm cool!"

With a chuckle, Harry's grasp slackens in amusement and that's when Louis strikes. Yanking them both to the floor, they roll in a struggle a few times and only come to a stop when Louis feels his back hit the stand of the keyboard at the opposite end of the room. Slightly tipping the momentum his way again, he straddles Harry’s body before he can tumble out of from under him.

“Ha!” Louis breathes triumphantly in his face as he pins Harry’s wrists to the wooden floorboards. “Gotcha.”

He expects Harry to come back at him with some clever retort or to knee him in the nuts but curiously he doesn’t. He just sits – wait, _lies_ \- there very still and silent. His eyes have grown huge like when Louis surprised him and his unwavering gaze is starting to freak Louis out, although he’s not going to say so.

Harry must see something in Louis’ face because he’s lifting his chin and Louis is almost tempted to let his wrists go. Strictly because this is getting weird, of course. Then quick as a flash, Harry moves his leg inside both of Louis’ and pushes against Louis’ hands and they begin to roll once more in the other direction. Louis is too busy fighting him off to be concerned about how they look or if they’ll actually smash into the mirrored wall and get a thousand cuts for their raucous trouble.

They eventually come to another stop roughly in the middle of the floor simply because Harry’s laughing and panting too hard to restrain Louis any longer. Louis feels something wind around his thigh, distantly hearing the tinny sounds of music to realise that Harry’s loose earphones have become as tangled up between them as they have with each other. Harry leans over him, smiling, as Louis’ vision momentarily shakes. He blinks slowly to rid his head of Harry’s eyes, Harry’s thin, knowing smile, Harry’s body pressed up along his and instead focuses on the hood on Harry’s top flopping down to one side of his neck, almost brushing against his face. Louis still feels breathless (from their tussle) and Harry continues to laugh, but now it’s stilted and coming to an end. It’s like he’s hesitating, deliberating over something important, and he shifts a little as the cogs turn in his mind.

Louis clamps his teeth in his lower lip and fights the urge to screw his eyes shut. _Oh God, no. No, no, no, this isn’t supposed to happen! Not now, not ever, fuckity fuck fuck, Harry’s going to notice something’s, well...up!_

Louis turns his head to the side and squints, the cool floor soothing his heated face. It’s like an inevitable car crash - he _can’t_ look, but something still means he’s unable to completely resist. When he does, slowly, Harry is still very much there (bugger, not an odd, inappropriately sexy dream then) and Louis is powerless as he feels Harry’s palm slide down to join his raised above his head. He’d done it for a laugh (mostly), knowing it would annoy Harry like a lot of his stunts and hopefully make him crack up, but this feels starkly different. There’s a tension between them, the kind that flickers when their gazes lock and neither feels the need to look away until it’s much too obvious to carry on.

Louis smiles anxiously and does what he does best: tries to make a tit out of himself.

He looks Harry in the eye again and jokes, “When I thought we were joined at the hip, I wasn’t sure I meant - ”

His efforts are lost in the mouth swooping down onto his. The movement tilts Harry’s crotch into his and even though they both like their jeans rather baggy, Louis is paranoid about what Harry can feel down there, but is revelling in the burst of friction it brings. They kiss like their lips are glued together, closed and unmoving. Bored with the seconds ticking by like this and neither of them quite having the balls to do anything else, to even pull back and start a flurry of apologies, Louis raises his right knee and nudges Harry sharply in his inner thigh, nearly literally kneeing him in the balls he apparently didn’t possess.

It does the trick – Harry gasps with a muffled and disgruntled “ow!” passing his lips and Louis tips his head slightly to the right and seals his mouth over Harry’s to catch his response clean from him. _That’ll teach you to mess with me, Styles_ , he thinks smugly and hoping not to grin too widely.

Not to overbalance himself, Harry leaves Louis’ wrists alone and plants his hands either side of his head instead. Louis smoothes his along Harry’s shoulders and then up into his curly hair, grabbing fistfuls until Harry is practically rutting over his pinned body and Louis knows what the previously subtle shifting means.

They’re kissing with the addictive slide of tongues before Louis’ addled brain can keep up with what’s happening and whilst that’s bloody great and they must explore this further, the distant thought of somebody catching them dances across his eyelids so frequently that the horror is now all he sees and hears and feels. He pushes at Harry’s chest, giggling like a mischievous schoolboy as he feels Harry drop kisses to his neck. He’s only wearing a t-shirt so he’s definitely feeling hot under the collar and probably blushing like never before. Louis doesn’t blush easily.

“Harry, stop,” he chokes out, desperately needing a drink of water from the bottle that's lying discarded by the sound system in the corner. The fact that it’s Harry’s doesn’t gross him out as much as it possibly should. “Someone might see us.” he adds into the silence.

With an agreeable murmur, Harry rolls off Louis and lands beside him. They both resolutely stare at the ceiling for a few moments, calming themselves down as best as they can. Louis _won’t_ look at the mirrored wall. God knows what he looks like right now with his face aflame and the natural line of his mouth smudged red into his skin.

Searching for something to say while they wait, he remembers the weirdness with Liam from earlier.

“Saw Liam before,” he begins, propping his head up on his hand and turning onto his side to face Harry.

After an extra beat, like Harry is away with the fairies, his sparkling eyes slide over to Louis, “Yeah? What d’he say?”

“That’s just it,” Louis picks up the drawstring attached to Harry’s hoodie and toys with it, “He didn’t say anything, well not much anyway, but he was acting really weird!”

“Like you weird or shifty weird?”

Louis feels he should be offended at that cheeky sleight, but whenever Harry insults him or gets physical with him, it never seems to go as far as with the others. It’s like he cares about his feelings or some crap. 

“Shifty,” he nods decisively as he remembers Liam’s slightly ruffled appearance and surprise at seeing Louis right there, “definitely shifty weird. Like he was up to no good.”

Harry looks at him curiously then grins, “Wanna go check it out?”

Louis doesn’t have to be asked twice. They scramble to their feet and he thinks about going ahead when he sees Harry turn his back to him in the corner as he gathers his belongings. He’s slipped his mobile phone into his back pocket and picking up his scarf and water bottle when Louis taps him on the shoulder. He sees how Harry still isn’t used to him being in such close proximity and truth be told neither is he yet. They’ve always touched and been affectionate, but sucking face with someone is a whole different game.

He backs Harry into the mirrored wall behind them with a hand to his sternum and a half smile. Harry determinedly keeps a hold on the scarf and water bottle wedged between their bodies as Louis leans in. He slides his hand from Harry’s shoulder and settles on his hip, feeling the shiver right into him. Reluctantly soon after, he breaks away otherwise they’ll be here all night. He rests his forehead against Harry’s and licks his kiss from his lips.

“We’d better leave,” he whispers, Harry’s eyes like cross-eyed saucers in front of him. “Let’s go spy on Liam!”

Thankfully, with smiles between them, nothing’s changed.

Louis fights the urge to hold Harry’s hand as they go back into the main part of the house.

Well, _almost_ nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of feel a bit weird that people on here might not know that these two are my OTP because of the stuff I decided to post when I got this account, which is why I've decided that when I feel like procrastinating (ahem), I'll post another of my H/L favourites. Look out for more of these in the near future.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for a chat if you like at [theprincessed](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com). :)


End file.
